


Daydreams:

by Salty_but_Sweet



Category: Digimon Adventure: (Anime 2020)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pointless, Random & Short, Rating changed just in case, Spoilers for everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27003490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_but_Sweet/pseuds/Salty_but_Sweet
Summary: Independent drabbles and one-shots inspired by the Adventure:. Possible spoilers for all the episodes and other spoiler material (plot synopses etc.) that have been aired/published before each chapter.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 31





	1. The Beginning of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> This has to be the last thing I'd have time to, but how many times in our lives we get more canon Takeru/Patamon/Angemon to work with? The opportunity is too good to pass up, especially when it's the series and not the movie format, thus giving a week to speculate and create scenes. Love it. So, here are pointless, random musings that are updated irregularly and will become irrelevant very fast. ^^'

1. **The Beginning of Something New** (Takeru, around the beginning of 02.)

* * *

It was a lazy day in late spring. The weather was warm, and the wind had started to carry the colder sea-air to inland. And even if today wasn’t a particularly windy day, there was a gentle breeze every now and then.

The weather was so ideal that even Takeru found himself nodding off in the history class. It was rare. Firstly, because he couldn’t sleep during stories of famous battles because they only reminded him of their own battles in the Digital World. Secondly, because he had only been in this school for a little bit over a month. He was a model student: well, maybe not smart like Koushirou or the girl that lived in the same building they had moved in — Miyako? — but polite and always returning his homework in time -type. He certainly wasn’t the sleeping in the class -type.

The pen dropped from his hand to the table but didn’t make any noticeable noise since the distance was shorth, but it woke him up. He looked around to see Hikari glance at him from the middle row with a small mirth before she returned to taking notes. He tried to focus for a second on the Treaty of Portsmouth but there was something in the air and how the small gust of wind from the open ventilation window brought him fresh air and a taste of freedom.

It reminded him of flying with Angemon.

And this time around he let himself succumb to the drowsiness to try and catch the dreams he sometimes had about the Digital World — the good type.

The ones he missed.

And for a moment he was back there, older now, Angemon explaining something to him: something he didn’t catch and would inevitably forget when his alertness would spike again.

Truth be told, he had dreamed a lot about the Digital World recently, but he couldn’t remember those dreams either. He had been having restless dreams for a few months now, the haziness becoming more frequent and harder to shake off. He hadn’t said anything at home, it was probably just stress created by the moving.

He was back in the classroom again watching his teacher write something on the chalkboard.

But this time there was a stronger gust of wind and seemingly out of nowhere a single white weather glided to his desk through the window. A few curious stares and surprised giggles came from the desks near him.

The feather in his hand didn’t glow like the one that had transported him to the Digital World three years ago. It was silent and motionless but to him, it spoke of promises and warnings.

That Angemon needed him again.


	2. Trade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to write another piece but then this popped into my head and I wanted to write it down right away. This collection is escalating faster than I expected (in more ways than one). Rating changed to M just in case.

2. **Trade**.  
  
(02 era around ep 18: "Run Yolei Run"/"Follow the Kaiser's Base", small liberties were taken with the Digimons' ability to evolve into Adult-stage, although I feel that : is doing that on its own already.)

* * *

“Wake up, Hawkmon… Wake up! Please!”

Takeru tried to gather his breath after pulling Miyako and Hawkmon up with the others. Flamedramon and Angemon were still battling against Dokugumon from the sky.

“Hawkmon, please!”

Takeru couldn’t help but glance at the unresponsive Hawkmon and the crying Miyako. Getting involved in the mental anguish was unwise whilst the battle was still going on. However, he couldn’t stop the familiar trauma from forming a cold feeling in his stomach.

Hikari and Iori had moved to comfort Miyako while Daisuke was yelling something at the sky.

Takeru turned his head to see what had caused the reaction but the sudden movement tipped his balance. As a countermeasure, he took a step back. And fell.

Everyone was too far away, too occupied with the situation at hand, to have time to do anything before the sand swallowed him.

* * *

Takeru came slowly back to consciousness. His mind didn’t immediately catch up with what had happened but he knew that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

He didn’t know what should have been but his brain whispered to him with heavy certainty that darkness and the cold floor under him were not it.

There was a snigger somewhere above him making him more aware of the metal floor beneath him.

Then someone kicked him in the cheek. Not with a “break your bones” -force but to cause a prominent stab of pain and sent him into a survival mode. He tried to roll back but couldn’t. However, his brain didn’t focus on that but the Digimon Kaiser’s dark grey boot close to his face.

Ichijouji snorted again, “Lazy.”

Takeru’s mind battled between fuming and being afraid. The moments before the ground had swallowed him came back to him and reminded him of Hawkmon and the others. He tried to get up and slowly the answer crept to him before charging the last hundred yards like a Mammothmon into his awareness — he was chained.

“You shitty…!” Takeru shouted before controlling himself and looking frantically around. It was a small dark room, metal-plated all-around. A prison cell, he realized. But he couldn’t see the others. “What did you do to them?”

Ichijouji didn’t see the effort stoop down closer to him and stayed to examine him from his arrogance. Takeru’s ignorance seemed to make the Kaiser even more gleeful than usual. “Out there crying after you,” the Kaiser said nonchalantly letting his hand gesture speak for itself.

Ichijouji drew _his_ green D-3 and D-Terminal from inside the cape and observed them in his hands dismissively.

Takeru could feel his blood boiling and despite having his hands and ankles chained together, he managed to make a sudden movement and kick the Kaiser into the right shin.

Ichijouji almost lost his balance but thanks to his history with football regained it quickly and reciprocated with a good kick on Takeru’s chest.

This was a true football-kick.

All the air was forced out of Takeru’s lungs and he found himself trying to draw it back while simultaneously drawing himself into a fetus position to shield his organs.

When he finally regained composure, Ichijouji had left but the final words ‘Scum’ rang in his ears.

* * *

Hours and hours went by as Takeru lay on the floor.

Once again, he was glad about his long-sleeved shirt because the metal hadn’t warmed a bit since he had woken up.

It had been some time ago since his initial anger had died down and left him feeling lonely. He hated the darkness — had hated after being encased in it because of Devimon.

It had to be night by now.

He could only picture how worried Patamon and the rest were; maybe even Yamato, Taichi, and Koushirou had come to help in the rescue. However, he didn’t want to think at all what they had had to tell his father. He cursed himself at getting caught so easily. They had gone through this once already by the Kaiser.

To repeat mistakes was stupid in any context, but in the Digital World, it could cost a life.

He tried to flex his arms again to keep the blood flowing.

And he couldn’t help his thoughts from rotating back to Angemon even if he had tried to veer them back to a more positive side for over a dozen times. He felt lonely, he was in some aspect, scared, maybe not of Ichijouji per se, but what the boy could achieve. And he was cold, thirsty, and desperately needed the loo. But he was feeling the loneliness only after a half-a-day at tops — Angemon had been imprisoned by Devimon for years.

Angemon never talked about his imprisonment and Takeru had respected his partner’s decision. However, there were times when Patamon had woken him up with a nightmare. And Takeru had noticed how the small Digimon didn’t like closed spaces or darkness any more than he did.

He had felt sympathy, had tried to help the best he could, but it was here when the depth of the trauma began to dawn on him in a very tangible way.

And at least he knew that others had seen him disappear and had a hunch where to start looking for him.

But then there was the other fear. The horror that Ichijouji had his D-3 and would most likely try to orchestrate a plan to get Angemon. And in those moments, he felt sick and gained a momentary vigor to try and free himself. But after the adrenaline had passed, he was still stuck lying on the cold floor.

* * *

At some point during the night, a bottle of water and a bowl of dog food had been brought to his cell. And shortly after his shackles had opened to let him get up, very gingerly, and use the loo in the corner of the cell.

He wanted to refrain from eating the dog food because he could tell that Ichijouji was watching somewhere and laughing at him. But his stomach grumbled despite having had good practice during their previous journeys in the Digital World.

At this point, he could just wait. He could tell that they were traveling based on the hum from the Base but he didn’t know where.

How long would it take for the others to find them?

* * *

For the rest of the night, Takeru varied in and out of light sleep. He woke up as the cell door emerged into the metal wall and opened with a clank. He got up but didn’t dash to escape the room as four Gazimons and three Flymons blocked the doorway — the Digimon Kaiser standing behind them.

“What do you want?”

“You, restrained. Gazimons.” Ichijouji ordered just as coolly as he had.

Takeru didn’t have any other options than to let the long-eared rookie-Digimons shackle his hands behind his back and put a short hobble-chain between his ankles as the Flymons stayed ready to attack if he didn’t comply.

After this, the Digimons hang onto him forcing him to shuffle after the Kaiser through the corridors towards the top levels of the structure. Takeru tried to memorize every single detail he could see, taking a particular note of the vast chasm in the middle of the structure. He could also sense that Ichijouji was still harboring ire from his kick yesterday.

“So, you think you can achieve something with this?” Takeru asked once they had stopped on the top level: a circular room with a few buttons reminding him of a flight deck. His body still ached from yesterday in addition to how his muscles screamed from the walk here. Provoked by the pain Takeru let an arrogance seep into his voice.

“By capturing you?” Ichijouji laughed and moved to pull a lever on the wall which caused a platform to lower from the ceiling. “To me, you are irrelevant in every sense of the word.”

“Ken, don’t do it.”

It was the first time Takeru noticed the small insect Digimon that always followed the Kaiser around. The Digimon was clearly timid and pleading.

“I told you to go!”

“But Ken…”

“Go!”

Takeru stayed silent for a while before resuming to irritate the boy, “Does it make you feel powerful? To fight against someone who lets you win?”

Ichijouji just snorted at his words, “I have a much stronger partner soon. Stronger than any of your pathetic little creatures.”

Wormmon stayed back on the top level after Ken’s wish but Takeru had to travel upwards to the roof.

It was there Takeru could see the sun for the first time in what felt like ages.

And the sea.

Sea in every direction he looked at.

There was a small metallic handrailing the Kaiser used as a support to look at the view. It was windy and Takeru could sense that he would have needed support too if it hadn’t been for the extra weight on his back and keeping him grounded. Still, the shackles took some of his balance and forced him to fight to stay upright more than he would have liked.

However, he could feel how his lack of questions irritated the over-confident boy in front of him.

But before he could draw pleasure over making Ichijouji reveal his plans they were descending.

The shock had to be evident from his face based on the Kaiser’s smirk.

However, they didn’t hit the surface of the water as he expected.

Instead, they were still going down, and soon, Takeru could see the vortex of water above them, creating them a void in which to keep descending. The water walls around them had to be at least a hundred feet tall giving Takeru a sense of claustrophobia. Tied as he was, he was sure to drown if the vortex ceased its constant movement.

“Are you crazy?”

Ichijouji tapped at the railing and sighed, “Consider it as a trade.”

“A trade?” Takeru asked unsettled with fear seeping into him.

This time the Digimon Kaiser didn’t take the effort to answer and instead snapped his fingers before stepping out of reach as the Gazimons and Flymons walked Takeru to the edge of the roof.

And he could see it.

The pitch-black vortex below them.

He looked at Ken in horror.

“Someone’s got what I want. Apparently, what they want in return is you. Can’t understand why though; but I guess that that’s the beauty of the trade.”

“Someone?”

“I think it introduced itself as Devimon. — I take it, you know each other?” Ichijouji laughed at his expression.

Before Takeru had a chance to react in any way, the Gazimons and Flymons had already pushed him over the edge.

For a split-second, he felt like he was flying.

But it was just a ghost-feeling created by his panicking brain as he tried to wiggle his arms and legs with all his might.

For another split-second, he tried to focus all his energy into hope — into getting a connection with Angemon.

But he was still falling.

His speed was too fast and the distance was too short to keep anyone from reaching him in time.

The sight of the blue sky was the last thing he saw before his shoulder-blades hit the water level at the bottom of the vortex.

* * *

“He can’t just disappear,” Yamato argued. His volume had been rising with each passing unslept hour.

Miyako, Daisuke, Iori, and Taichi had opted to take a rest during the night to ensure that one group of people could stay searching around the clock.

Hikari, Koushirou had stayed up with Yamato, Garurumon, and Angemon during the night but taken a rest in the dawn while the three latter still kept going.

Angemon had searched from the sky, Garurumon and Yamato from the land and Koushirou had tried to do his magic with his laptop.

However, they hadn’t found a trace. Takeru’s D-3 had given them a direction to head to but stopped giving a signal only an hour later.

_Why did they always have to kidnap Takeru?_

They were now having a break to discuss where to head next from the forest they were in. Yamato could see that Angemon was sharing his frustration and dread over their lack of progress, at how slow everything was happening.

Of course, Agumon had been captured before but it only proved how twisted Ichijouji was. Takeru was capable of holding his own but who knew what plans the Kaiser had to kidnap a human being.

Yamato couldn’t focus on the discussion, it didn’t matter what they did, what mattered was to get moving and do _something_.

In the end, neither option mattered because the answer found them.

They got a second of pre-warning as Angemon froze. Yamato managed just to turn his head only to see Angemon shoot up from the ground and Digivolve into Seraphimon in midair before disappearing from view.

Yamato felt a heavy weight settle into his stomach: the only reason why Angemon wouldn’t have taken the time to give them a direction was that Takeru was in imminent peril.

Luckily, the others were quick to act and soon they were flying in the same direction as Seraphimon had set off. If they would just stay on the course they would come to the right place.

Seraphimon wasn’t going to take a detour.

* * *

Angemon had felt Takeru’s worry constantly after the human’s disappearance. It had been a faint feeling but still there.

And in the instant, it had flashed into his consciousness like a thunder.

That Takeru was in grave danger.

And as he flew full speed, the connection was finally strong enough so he could pinpoint where Takeru was.

However, he had barely set off before the flow of energy died as quickly as it had come. There was just a void where Takeru’s hope should have resided. Seraphimon didn’t know if he had ever felt such strong desperation and panic.

Fortunately, the feeling had been so strong that he could still maintain the direction and hope against hope to find Takeru close to the spot where the young boy had been seconds ago. And as he dug into his emotions there was a relief that he could still, in fact, feel Takeru once the shock from the sudden change receded. But the connection was very weak, if not barely viable.

He flew on like he had only once before and soon the open sea came into view.

_He knew what resided here._

_After all, he had been the one to imprison it in here in the first place._

* * *

Takeru coughed. And coughed.

He was only barely conscious but the burning in his lungs kept him coughing and from blacking out. He instinctively rolled to his side to get more water out of his lungs.

Slowly he became aware of his surroundings and this time there was no Kaiser to kick him awake.

His fingers groped the coarse sand beneath him.

Every single thing he could see was covered by a dark mist. It was all black. All grey.

Lifeless.

The sea, the coastline, and the trees on the side.

And he was now cold _and_ wet.

Takeru’s clothes were clinging to his skin. His shoulder-blades sank a little into the wet sand and his feet were still below the waterline.

_But the most distressing thing was that his arms and legs were still chained together._


	3. Tainted Virtue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are continuing on the angsty-line. (Yay!)
> 
> Thank you for everyone who have read, left kudos or bookmarked! I wrote the last ch in one 6 hr crunch and wanted to post it with the same eyes. After about an hour and nothing, I started to question if I went too far. But then I got the first positive review on ff and was like 'okay, I don't have to take it down in panic'.

3\. **Tainted Virtue.** (Angemon, deviates from ep 20:, small canon differences.)

* * *

“You know they are already here.”

Angemon retained his hard expression.

Devimon had come to taunt him again. Piece of the novelty of having him in the chains had worn out a long time ago, but lately, Devimon had come to see him more often. It meant that things were going to the demon’s liking — he didn’t like that.

“Soon, your demise will be complete,” Devimon remarked. “I have Velgrmon to bring the boy to me.”

“You keep your hands off him!” However, Angemon couldn’t do anything but strain his muscles in the chains. The darkness had a good hold of him, had had for so long that he had almost given up. Only the sense of his partner being here — in this world! — had restored part of his vigor.

Devimon laughed at his futile actions.

After the fallen angel had left the chamber, Angemon returned to trying to break free. But the chains held as they had before. He was no stronger, in the opposite, even less so after the years of exposure to the darkness. The open miasma in the room gave him a headache and made his muscles ache.

But his partner was here.

Finally, finally here.

* * *

He didn’t want his partner to be here.

The boy was lifeless, insensible, inside the dark orb.

The metal from his chains clanked like it hadn’t in a long time. Furthermore, the darkness fused into the metal burned him, tried to seize him. For the first time in a long while they had a spirit to defeat, something to corner unmovable by pain.

The chains managed none of that.

Because his partner was here, trapped in that awful bubble.

“Less than an hour? Wouldn’t you think?”

“Let him go.”

Angemon was not the type to beg, none of the Holy Digimons were. You don’t make deals with darkness. But he could order, could make his words grow colder than Devimon ever could, devoid of the superfluous mannerism and egotism. He did know that his words meant nothing here but words were the only thing he had at the moment.

“Let him go?”

“Let. Him. Go.”

Devimon tilted his head when he looked at Angemon. There was a slight Cheshire rise in the corners of the demon’s mouth. “The darkness will liberate him. — An hour. I think you can keep each other company until then.”

To say that Angemon had met abyss had had to have been a lie. His partner was there 15 feet away from, lying on the cold, stone floor. And it was 15 feet too far. Angemon’s arms were chained to either side of his head, and the dark inanimate snakes had wound themselves around his torso, anchoring him to the spot, giving him less than a foot at maximum.

He knew, just knew, when he set his eyes on the boy, “Takeru!”

“Takeru!”

But Takeru remained curled and unresponsive.

Angemon had thought that he had witnessed everything the darkness could throw at him, but this wasn’t him. No, this was someone much purer than him. Someone who didn’t belong under darkness, someone who should have been sheltered and saved from any contact with the darkness throughout his existence.

“Takeru! You have to listen to me!” 

Angemon could only feebly register the searing pain on his right arm and wrist where the darkness tried to reign him in.

How could he let this happen?

He had held on for so long at the thought of Takeru, at the thought that someday they would meet. Because, as long as Takeru existed, there was hope.

He had failed to stop the Celestial Kingdom from losing the Great War.

He had failed to stop himself from being captured.

But now his partner was being tainted with darkness and he was still failing, unable to help, unable to even move.

“Takeru, please!”

His panicked words had no effect. Instead, the darkness was proceeding, getting a better hold of the boy.

Angemon tried to tear himself free again, his muscles screaming at the effort.

And it didn’t take long for Takeru’s expression to become more distressed. The young boy's hands squeezed into fists but it was only a subconscious gesture to stave off the pain.

_Fail._

_Fail._

_Failure._

“Takeru! Takeru!” Angemon didn’t know how many times he shouted his partner’s name. His voice had been hoarse for so long and now it was starting to break when he would have needed it the most.

Did anyone know the small boy was here? Why didn’t anyone come to help?

Why were they letting something so innocent to be corrupted!

Angemon could feel the panic-induced anger bubble inside him. He knew the way out of this, knew what Devimon wanted.

He knew what Devimon had tried to achieve for so long. —To get him to succumb to the darkness.

Giving up would stop the chains from holding him back because he would become one with them, able to control them with a sheer thought.

_Would it be so bad?_

The result would be the same as now. When the bubble would seep into Takeru's soul he would dark-evolve anyway. Only then he wasn’t sure if he could keep the real Devimon at bay.

_Would it really be so bad?_

If he succumbed himself, it wouldn’t be on Takeru.

No. Because Takeru would be saved.

“Takeru –Takeru, you have to hear me!”

The chains burned and Angemon could feel how most of his torso had become lacerated, burn marks were all over him. But the chains refused to budge, refused to let him get any closer to his partner.

Takeru flinched at pain. The darkness was becoming too overwhelming to able to keep the boy sedated.

“Takeru, please open your eyes!”

_How come you fight for eternity and end up like this, for it all to end up like this?_

_How come that’s fair?_

“Takeru…”

Angemon didn’t know if had ever shed a tear like the one that rolled down his chin.

“Takeru…”

Desperation grew inside him.

No.

He would feed on it.

Takeru was the number one in this. Takeru was the number one in everything he knew and would know.

The fear whether he would become a threat to his partner after dark-evolution started to disappear.

Because Takeru was everything.

_Even darkness needs a reason, right?_

“Takeru... please forgive me.”

And little by little, Angemon could feel the change course through his body. The flesh started to disappear from his arms; ragged feathers fell from his wings.

Takeru was visibly shaking at this point, trying to get away from his prison but unable to wake up, trapped inside a nightmare.

The chains gave Angemon a little bit more leeway. His hands were becoming more skeletal and he could pull the shackles on his wrists further up.

The panic was still there, but it was getting drowned by the need to save the boy and the certainty that Takeru belonged to him — that he would abolish anything that threatened the boy.

Because the darkness was trying to eat his partner. HiS.

The tears were still rolling down his cheeks when the chains stopped burning him. They had held him in the despair for so long, whispered to him that he wouldn’t ever be free. And now they snapped like pieces of string. And he could feed on them. He could feel the massive source of energy buried in the miasma, there to grab if he’d just snap his fingers.

But all that was irrelevant because he could finally meet his partner.

_There were noises coming somewhere outside the chamber._

He vanquished the bubble holding Takeru and picked the drowsy boy up as gently as he could with his claws.

_The noises were getting closer now. Someone was — were — about to come in._

But they would not touch his partner.

Devimon enshrouded the boy inside his hand.

Safe, sheltered, close.

No-one would ever touch his partner.


	4. Two Lone Wolves

4\. **Two Lone Wolves.** (Adventure: sometime after ep 23, Yamato & Angemon.)

* * *

It was quiet — for once.

They had been running and fighting continuously for a few weeks. Every time they had beat an enemy, it respawned, evolved, or had a successor to come and destroy the world. And even though they were evolving further with each passing battle, they were still fighting just to survive.

Yamato looked at Angemon who had offered to keep watch. With the Holy Digimon, they had, at last, received a breather.

It had been only three days since the Holy Digimon had come to save Takeru and died, and not much less since it had hatched again.

Yamato glanced at Takeru who was already asleep next to Gabumon.

“Should we thank him?”

Yamato forced his mind to climb back to the present and take in Taichi’s quiet words.

“Eh?”

“The Holy Digimon? He saved our lives, for more than once so far.”

“Maybe,” Yamato agreed absently without looking at Taichi.

Even if the leader’s words hadn’t been an order, Yamato followed them after a second of consideration. Taichi and Agumon stayed near the fire.

* * *

Angemon was keeping a wider circle around the camp than Yamato would have liked but he wasn’t going to question the Holy Digimon after all this had done to them.

Yamato wasn’t surprised that Angemon seemed to have expected his approach. There was grace in the angel-Digimon’s posture — now even more so as the re-birth had healed the Digimon’s wounds.

The Holy Digimon bowed its head as a greeting but let Yamato be the first to speak and determine the tone of the discussion.

Yamato pushed through his lone wolf -attitude. He had made good progress at making friends; there was no need to ditch that progress now with Takeru’s partner.

“We… I wanted to thank you for saving Takeru and our lives with Velgromon.”

Angemon gave him an enigmatic smile before bowing his head again. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Yamato. We are in the same group,” Angemon replied serenely. “Plus, Takeru told me how you helped to stop me from falling into the miasma. That is equally honorable.”

Yamato blushed at the mentioning of Takeru’s adulation towards him. It felt nice. Of course, he knew that his little brother had been thankful but that had been a life and death situation and all that. To hear the praise in a tranquil evening like this… somehow made it more vocal.

Angemon looked at him as if knowing what was going inside his head.

Yamato put his hands inside his pockets and almost kicked a pebble on the ground but stopped short. He didn’t know how this Holy Digimon acted or thought but he supposed that kicking pieces of this world to pass the time wouldn’t meet the Digimon’s criteria over an accomplishment.

“Can I ask? I… Why Takeru?”

Angemon’s posture didn’t change but there was a prolonged silence that made Yamato wonder if the Holy Digimon was eyeing him, pondering what to reply.

After a while, Angemon looked up towards the sky. There weren’t that many stars here, and none of which Yamato could recognize. Few lazy clouds seemed to have fallen asleep on the edge of the horizon as if waiting for the sun to come up and wake them.

“He gives us the best chance to win this war — to save this world,” Angemon replied distantly before turning to look at Yamato.

Yamato took his hands out of his pockets but didn’t know what to do with them. “Oh.”

It wasn’t a very articulated reply, and it certainly didn’t add anything to the conversation. However, it made Angemon smile at him thinly.

It was the closest thing to uncertainty Yamato had witnessed from the Holy Digimon.

There was a long silence and Angemon swallowed hard before confessing shyly, “If you forgive me, there is also a personal reason.”

Yamato raised his gaze in surprise.

“I… I understand that you’ve heard what we had here before the Great War. — Now all of those have either died or fallen to the darkness.” Despite that Angemon spoke in a very neutral manner Yamato could detect the grief that underlined the words. “I managed to stay from being corrupted because I knew that your brother was out there, _would_ be here. And to see him… Takeru makes me feel blessed — he gives me confidence that tomorrow will be a better day than yesterday. — After everything, that is more valuable than I can translate into words.”

Yamato didn’t know what to say. Takeru was so important to him, so, he could relate but to hear the same words from someone who had been in his brother’s life for a few days felt surreal. He had Gabumon, but he hadn’t heard voices inside his head. The situation was made even more dreamlike by the fact that a Digimon with such a miraculous aura and power was opening his heart to him. Yamato got a very strong impression that it was the first time in a very long time.

“I’ll reciprocate it to him, Yamato, I promise.”

Yamato had gotten many promises in his life and he knew that even the best of intentions fell short at times. However, he didn’t know how to answer this one. He had seen what the Holy Digimon could do — and was ready to do — for Takeru.

In the end, Yamato shook his head in return, after all, they were in the same team. “I still can’t believe that someone as powerful as you is now partnered to my brother,” he confessed somberly.

However, this time it was Angemon who shook his head slowly. There was a second of hesitation, and Yamato half-expected Angemon to courteously deny his words or say that it wasn’t about power. Yet, in the end, Angemon glanced at the sleeping Takeru and voiced with the same tone of grateful disbelief, “I could say the same thing.”

Yamato followed Angemon’s gaze and blinked in surprise.

“It’ll be okay,” Angemon promised him.

Yamato didn’t know if Angemon meant it regards to Takeru’s safety, this whole war, or something else. However, as he was about to bid the Digimon good night, Angemon thanked him with a knowing look.

It took Yamato a while to understand the acknowledgment. But as he was later drifting to sleep, his instinct told that it had been a thank you for welcoming Angemon to the group, for making a personal bond.

Maybe they would come to understand each other very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of those fics that make me feel like I completely lost my ability to write. And I know, I'm recycling my Angemon talking with people setting but Angemon refuses to be approachable during the daytime. It's annoying. :D


	5. Price (Trade II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trade has been very vocal that it should be made into a longer story. Not going to happen but I’ll add stand-alone-ish parts to it. Short time-jump here ‘cause I think that Trade works best when it leaves room to readers' headcanons.
> 
> This is the first one-shot where the differences between OG and : Takeru caused problems. And I think that those will just keep on coming. : also has the sixth VA for Takeru I’ve listened to (seventh if you count the theater play). Just no.

5\. **Price.** (Trade II.)

* * *

It was a chaotic mess when the group finally reached the portal and the Human World. The injuries Angemon had sustained had caused him to devolve upon entry. So, now they were back at the campsite. All eight kids, Patamon and Hiroaki. The rest of their partners had stayed back in the Digital World to stay out of the way.

“Dad!” Yamato shouted to Hiroaki who had already spotted their arrival and approaching them.

Koushirou had given a pre-handed warning. In addition, everyone had been on alert once Yamato had relayed the message that Angemon had found Takeru.

Takeru, who was coughing on the ground, soaking wet.

“We need to get him inside,” Yamato heard Taichi instruct from behind him.

“He needs medical aid,” Yamato commented to his father who had kneeled next to Takeru.

Takeru’s breath was raspy and the boy blinked to focus his eyes at the sky. However, Takeru quickly squeezed his eyes shut due to the harsh daylight. They didn’t know whether it was because Takeru had spent so long in the darkness or because of his obvious eye infection. Takeru’s eyes were bloodshot and the eyelids swollen.

But that was the least of their problems. Takeru’s wrists and ankles were wounded and bloody; heavy bruises shone through Takeru’s shirt and indicated other injuries. Takeru coughed heavily and his facial expressions were sloppy, unfocused. Yamato had seen his little brother like that when this had suffered chickenpox — along with high fever.

Angemon had tried to heal what he could but these wounds weren’t made in the Digital World.

Takeru roamed the ground next to him with his right hand. Patamon beat Yamato and Hiroaki before they managed to ask about the gesture. Takeru became immediately less tense as Patamon grasped his hand with its small pawns. And before Hiroaki had managed to pick Takeru to get him indoors, Takeru had drawn Patamon close to his chest. Hiroaki pursed his lips at the sight and glanced at Yamato for confirmation whether it would be good for the small Digimon to add weight on Takeru’s already wheezy breathing. Yamato, however, just watched Patamon and Takeru for a second before nodding anxiously his approval. He didn’t know much, but he had learned that Takeru was — always — better off with his partner. The way in which Takeru had scooped Patamon to his arms had destroyed all the potential worries he might have had anyway.

* * *

Half-an-hour later Takeru was cocooned into the backseat of the small SUV. They had washed the worst mud and dirt from Takeru’s wounds with bottled water and wrapped Takeru in three large towels and Yamato’s indigo sleeping bag. Takeru had been shaking heavily and probably didn’t have the energy to keep his body temperature up. Moreover, Takeru’s state indicated that his body had set its targets higher than just the normal temperature.

Yamato had taken the rest of the backseat. Koushirou had sat in the front passenger’s seat with his laptop and phone, while Hiroaki had taken the wheel. The rest of the kids had stayed behind at the campsite. At least Taichi was there and it was a safer option than spending a night in the Digital World — especially after the Kaiser’s recent power trip.

The mood in the car was anxious. The first and most obvious course of action would be to take Takeru to the hospital which the boy desperately needed. However, they couldn’t do that. How would the staff react to a young kid brought to the emergency room with signs of captivity and assault. To make the matters worse, Hiroaki wouldn’t be able to explain the injuries in any logical and non-alarming way.

Takeru and Yamato would be taken under custody in hours.

Maybe they could claim that it had been a really bad case of school violence as Hikari had suggested but, even then, it would become a police issue and they’d have nothing prove their claims.

Koushirou was trying to get in contact with Joe and Mimi to see if their families could help. Even if the Chosens’ families didn’t keep active contact they had all been in the same boat and would understand the issue.

They were still over an hour away from Tokyo. Takeru had gotten slightly better thanks to the warmth and the sweets they had given him back at the campsite. In fact, Yamato was taken aback by how determined Takeru appeared to be despite his injuries. Every once in a while, Takeru’s gaze came focused — colder — and the muscles in his jaws tensed.

Yamato didn’t know what it meant.

But he could throw an uneasy guess.

Because Takeru was yet to put any physical distance between himself and Patamon, instead Takeru was scratching Patamon behind the small Digimon’s head. If Yamato looked at the right angle, he could see glimpses of the light bridge that connected the two. Yamato had seen it only a few times prior. Now it forced him to swallow thickly. He didn’t know what Takeru had gone through, didn’t know what his little brother had witnessed as Angemon had been the only one who had been able to reach Takeru. Takeru’s resolve with anything Holy Digimon related had worried and shocked Yamato from the start and now the connection excluded him. Something more was going on but he wasn’t part of it, and based on Takeru’s expression wouldn’t be let into it easily.

_His little brother wasn’t supposed to protect him._

However, it was only ten minutes later when Takeru’s stomach fought off the food he had been given. They had to stop by the side of the road for Takeru to retch out of the car. Yamato held Takeru around the middle to stop the boy from falling out of the car; the sleeping back felt shiny and slippery under his hands.

Hiroaki had gotten out of the car and put his hand on Takeru’s shoulder as Takeru coughed and wheezed with his throat burning.

Hiroaki’s other hand was drawn into a white-knuckled fist.

Eventually, the could climb back into the car and continue the journey.

For the rest of the drive, Takeru leaned onto Yamato’s shoulder.

* * *

Finally, they reached the parking hall of the residential building where Joe lived.

Hiroaki moved to lift Takeru into his arms. Patamon raised his head a tiny bit to evaluate Takeru. However, Patamon made no effort to move away from Takeru’s grip so that it would have been easier for Hiroaki to lift the boy. This time Hiroaki nodded at Patamon that it was okay, before talking comfortingly at Takeru, “We need to get you inside.”

Yamato came out from the same side of the car and helped to cover Takeru from any potential by-passers.

They were in luck that it was an early afternoon and they didn’t meet anyone on the way.

Joe ran to meet them in the lobby and froze briefly at the sight of Takeru amidst the bundle of the sleeping back and towels.

“This way. It’s the fourteenth floor.”

Koushirou opted to stay down because of the size of the lift, so, Yamato, Joe, and Hiroaki stood cramped in the small place. The only audible noise was Takeru’s raspy breathing and recurring coughs.

“Dad is still at work. Shin promised to do the first-aid and call to Dad after that,” Joe babbled earning a curt nod from Hiroaki who couldn’t decide whether to stare at Takeru or look at anything else than the state of his youngest child.

The apartment door had been left open by Joe. Shin peeked his head from one of the bedrooms at their arrival. Seeing they had, in fact, arrived he came to greet Hiroaki, moved one of the towels away from Takeru’s cheek, and stared at the boy for one whole second. Shin gave a series of determinant nods as if trying to tell himself, they could do this. “Joe, get me some hot water and some orange juice. Carry him to my bedroom, I tried to make a space there.”

* * *

Shin’s room wasn’t large by any means, but their parents had made it clear that he should have his own room to be able to focus on his med-school. Now the bed, the floor, and the desk were covered by clean sheets. Disinfectant, roll bandage, wound pads and a very well maintained red first-aid kit were laid out in good order.

Hiroaki laid Takeru on the bed and began to gather the damp towels. However, Takeru’s expression was so pained that Hiroaki abandoned his try to get the sleeping back from underneath his son. It was momentarily unclear whether Takeru understood what was happening as he made no contact with anyone in the room, except for Patamon who he clutched in his arms.

They had all been aware of the battles in the Digital World, how dire the situation had been on many occasions, but never had they seen one of their own wounded so badly. All the humans in the room stayed still for a second in front of the seriousness of the situation.

Shin was the first to spring into action, put on sterile gloves, and picked up a penlight.

“Takeru, can you hear me. I need to check your injuries. Okay?”

Hiroaki stood at the foot-end of the bed. He had never been one for physical or emotional comfort. He had tried his best to be there for both of his sons but now simply being there seemed inadequate beyond words. Who the hell would do this to an 11-year-old boy? What kind of a world would let this happen to his son?

Takeru cried out as Shin turned him into a better position to see his backside. Yamato moved closer to Takeru in an instant and put a hand on his little brother’s leg, “It’s okay Teeks. Everything is going to be okay.” 

Hiroaki could only watch at his older son comforting Takeru. Patamon was still on Takeru’s arms murmuring soothing things to the boy and transmitting Shin’s needs to him.

“Takeru, you need to tilt your head back for Shin to see into your throat. It’s okay, Takeru. It’ll help.”

Shin tried to be as careful as possible but it was clear that despite the professional demeanor he was nervous and anxious: Shin stopped every now and then to think through what he saw and heard and then took glances at the med-kit. He had spent the last four months doing his second residency. However, at the hospital, he still had someone behind his back on every turn.

By now, Joe had filled a bucket with water and went out the second time to pick up a glass of juice and a spoon.

“He vomited on the way,” Yamato clarified and moved to the head-end of the bed to brush Takeru’s damp hair out the boy’s face.

Having finished the once over, Shin stooped close to Takeru and put his left hand on the boy’s arm to gently shake him to consciousness, “Takeru, how are you feeling? Can you tell me where it hurts?”

“My head --my head hurts,” Takeru forced out and began to cough. “And lungs. Ankles.”

Shin looked at Takeru from head to toe and nodded to himself. However, Takeru’s wrists were much worse than his ankles: the skin was more chafed and bruised, not to mention, the dark red circles around the wounds indicated that gashes had gotten infected.

“And your wrists?”

There was a slightly longer pause before Takeru shook his head determinedly. This made Shin puzzled before he registered how Takeru’s hands curled slightly tighter around Patamon. The small Digimon’s fur was tainted with Takeru’s blood from being held nonstop since the arrival to the Human World. Shin quickly counted the one plus one.

“Okay. We’ll start with your head and lungs.” Shin offered calmly and not giving any indication that he had spotted Takeru’s unwillingness to let go of his partner. In the current circumstances, it was an upside to see Takeru relax at his words. At least it meant that Takeru was cognizant enough to understand what was happening and react to it to his benefit.

Takeru clenched his jaw as Shin tried to help him turn his head.

“Have you inhaled any water or vomit? Takeru?”

This time Takeru’s silence was longer.

“Seawater. Sand,” Takeru mumbled.

Yamato nor Hiroaki missed how Shin was taken aback by the answer and turned to look at Joe before gazing back to Takeru, “A lot?”

Takeru nodded and as on cue began to cough again and rolled back to his side.

The sound wasn’t good.

Shin fixed his glasses and measured Takeru’s temperature with a digital thermometer.

“Takeru, do you have a headache?” And after receiving a confirming nod, “Takeru, you probably have pneumonia because of the foreign matter in your lungs and it has caused you a fever. You’ll get antibiotics to it, so it’ll be okay. Okay?”

Shin stood up and continued with a more serious voice than the soft clear words he had used with Takeru, “Joe, call dad that we have to bring him over. We’ll have to X-ray his chest to see what’s in there.”

“Okay.”

“What are they going to do in the hospital?” Yamato asked taking his eyes from Takeru for the first time in a while.

“I’m okay, onii-san.”

Takeru’s words may have been weak but everyone turned to look at him with chills going down their spine.

In the end, Hiroaki cleared his throat but it didn’t stop his voice from breaking a little, “No, son. You need to go to the hospital.”

Takeru gave no response but the way in which his face hardened told that he didn’t like the verdict.


	6. Of Cold Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was supposed to write a Tokomon rolling into your life -piece after ep 23. Didn't. Anyway, here’s something similar. 
> 
> For those asking about Quintessence: the next ch is about 80 % written. (Keep that guilt coming, people!) Unfortunately, it runs at 5.7k words even while missing one or two scenes. I’ll probably cut it in half, try to update the first half next week, and the second part in a week or two after that.

Takeru felt weird as he looked around. Despite being the youngest, he was the last one left standing.

Well, Patamon was technically younger than him, he guessed.

Yamato, Taichi, Gabumon, and Agumon were all lying on the ground. The fight against DoneDevimon had taken almost all of their strength. The older brothers had put the final effort in getting down from the collapsing mountain, and they had all skied down the slope.

Well, in Takeru’s case that had been more paragliding/water-skiing while holding unto Patamon’s paws to stay in balance.

And now everyone was exhausted — except him. He had done some running, feared for everyone’s life, but that had been mostly it.

Taichi and Agumon were already snoring.

“Onii-chan?”

Yamato opened his eyes and raised his head a bit, “We’ll rest for a bit, Takeru. You should take a nap too.” Gabumon moved his paw to make a makeshift blanket for Yamato and looked at Takeru to ask if the boy wanted to join the bundle of fur as well.

However, Takeru shook his head a little before he turned to look towards the sky. It was the first time he had time to do something as trivial as that. There was a moon, but it looked much bigger than it ever had back at home.

Patamon watched Takeru from where he stayed curled up like a ball. He was tired too. He had died, been reborn, evolved — twice. However, despite that all, watching the young human felt more rejuvenating than sleep.

He had hoped for this for so long.

Takeru seemed oblivious to his audience as he gazed towards the sky with his head tilted backward. He didn’t even notice his hat sliding from his head.

Patamon smiled and got up to shake the dirt off his fur.

He couldn't go to sleep and leave his young partner without something covering his head.

“Patamon?” Takeru asked surprised. He finally closed his mouth he hadn’t noticed he had kept open amidst the amazement.

Patamon offered Takeru his cap making the boy blink in confusion. Takeru touched his head to notice that his cap had actually fallen off and Patamon wasn’t carrying just some replica around.

Patamon sat down but gazed upwards like Takeru had done a moment earlier.

This time, Takeru sat down too with his legs cross-legged. However, for Takeru, the sky didn’t manage to keep his attention anymore, “Are you okay?” he asked while keeping his voice down not to disturb the others.

Patamon turned to look at the boy and nodded with a smile.

Takeru mirrored the smile but trembled a little that had nothing to do with Patamon but his t-shirt and not running for his life.

Patamon noticed the reaction, blinked once, and padded the remaining feet to Takeru. His partner understood immediately and picked the fur-covered Digimon into his lap. They were almost the same size and as Takeru wrapped his arms loosely around the Digimon he felt instantly warmer.

Takeru had held Tokomon and Poyomon in his arms for most of the day but this was different, more pronounced. Takeru could feel it in Patamon too, as the small Digimon sniffled once before pushing back gently against Takeru’s arm.

The small Digimon was sad, Takeru realized.

Takeru didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure why Patamon was sad. But then he remembered Devimon’s words. Could he ask about that?

“Patamon, what happens to Devimon now?”

The small Digimon was quiet in his lap for a while, “He’ll be reborn if he wants to.”

Takeru blinked, “But not as?”

Patamon shuddered in his arms with the force he shook his head, “Not as Devimon. Poyomon, too.”

Takeru let a small “Oh,” but given the quietness of his words Patamon most likely rather felt his nod than heard his reply.

“He was a SlashAngemon,” Patamon explained softly.

“Slash… Angemon. He was an angel, too?” Takeru asked turning down to look at Patamon who was looking at something in the distance.

Patamon nodded with his eyes downcast. “There were more of us.”

Takeru was silent for a long time. Eventually, Patamon turned to look at the boy who was obviously trying to imagine what had happened.

“It’s okay. Things will always be okay in the end,” Patamon assured not wanting to pass on his grief. However, there was a slight hitch in the words.

Takeru didn’t need to ask if Patamon missed his friends, he could feel it already. Takeru hugged Patamon a little bit tighter.

“I don’t know if they want to be reborn. They had a hard time already without the added guilt,” Patamon confessed quietly before pressing his face against Takeru’s shirt.

Takeru didn’t know what to respond. Patamon probably knew better than he did how the other angel Digimons would act and choose. Takeru stared at the sky while petting Patamon’s fur, maybe he could find answers there. He settled to “I’ll be your friend forever,” even if he doubted, he could replace the hole left by all those who had known Patamon longer than he had.

The small Digimon seemed to accept his words; Takeru could feel Patamon nod and smile faintly against his chest. Takeru leaned his head on top of Patamon’s head.

Patamon’s fur tickled his throat but felt warm.

His partner didn’t seem to mind.

Besides, the way in which Patamon welcomed the gesture with a small shiver of his own indicated that the small Digimon looked for warmth also — even if in a different form.


	7. Comedown (Trade III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this piece ready and waiting, so enjoy! After all the angst, we’re in the hurt/comfort -section for a few one-shots. (Q is coming over the weekend.^^)

7\. **Comedown.** (Trade III.)

* * *

It had been so long since he had slept in a bed that it felt alien to be able to do so. Unfortunately, the reality was that it hadn’t been that long — he was the one who had changed.

* * *

It was closer to 1 a.m. and Takeru had been going in and out of fitful sleep since 10 p.m. It was his second week in the hospital, and he had been given his own room to recover. Unfortunately, both of his parents had been asked to do a late-night shift, and he had commanded Yamato to finally go home and not sleep at the hospital’s reclining chair anymore. It had been fun to have his brother around for over a week, but he could make it on his own already. And Patamon was there to keep him company. Plus, he needed the sense of security that even the constant light from the bedside lamp couldn’t provide.

However, now, he was starting to regret his choices. Takeru sought for a better position — one that wouldn’t press his bladder.

He hadn’t walked on his own yet. The nurses had tried to get him moving but he had appealed that he wasn’t there yet. Tomorrow, tomorrow.

In truth, the prospect terrified him.

He pulled the blanket and shifted again.

“Takeru?” Patamon asked groggily. The movement had woken the small Digimon who was curled up on the same bed.

Takeru first thought of ushering his partner to go back to sleep but his bladder was less forgiving. It was still four hours till the nurses’ morning shift.

“I need to go to the toilet.”

Yet he didn’t get up. Patamon glanced at him questioningly.

It would be the first time in a long while when he’d walk on his own legs — and have them unshackled.

In the short period of time he had spent in the hospital, he had already managed to see more than five nightmares of having his limbs shackled. That only added to the list of the visions that had circled his mind since the Dark Ocean.

And it wasn’t that different. Now his ankles were wrapped in heavy bandages instead of iron. The feeling was similar, an unwelcome heavy bulge around his ankles. And his mobility would still be limited. The ache in his legs told a clear message that it would be difficult to put weight on his legs like he had before.

— Hence why people had been pushing him around in a wheelchair. But no-one was here now. Of course, he could call the staff, but…

“I could support you,” Patamon suggested.

Takeru turned to look at Patamon and considered the offer. It felt a bit excessive but what if he wouldn’t be able to walk on his own.

_What if he ended up face-first on the floor and broke his healing ribs?_

_What if it hurt too much and the pain would reveal that there was something else wrong with his legs?_

Something from the Dark Ocean had stayed with him and prevented him from being sure of himself.

“If I insist?” Patamon asked with a sympathetic smile.

Takeru reached for his Digivice and a quick flash of light later Angemon stood next to the bed.

Takeru could detect the small remorse on his partner’s features before Angemon hid it behind a warmhearted look. “You look better now,” Angemon commented quietly eyeing his appearance with the higher wealth of understanding.

Takeru didn’t reply. Instead, their eyes met for a good while before Takeru had to break the contact.

He had said a lot in that exchange, and he wasn’t fully ready to hear Angemon’s story either.

Angemon stepped closer to brush Takeru’s hair and Takeru let his eyes fall close.

“Bathroom?”

Takeru opened his eyes slowly and nodded, “Bathroom.”

Yet, he still couldn’t place his feet on the ground.

Takeru had never met a wall like this, a situation where his mind just refused to cooperate.

The feelings of dread from his nightmares were clawing his spine. They whispered to him, humiliated him with the memory of trying to get up, trying to kick himself free, push himself forward. The darkness had laughed him at every inch he had crawled while coughing up sand and water, choking on his breath.

He grasped the bed’s metal handrailing and the air escaped from his lungs.

Angemon kneeled next to the bed, put a hand on top of his, and squeezed lightly.

“They don’t deserve to be heard,” Angemon offered gently having already figured out that Takeru’s hesitance wasn’t about the pain. “Let them go,” Angemon continued after there was no reaction in Takeru.

This time Takeru met Angemon’s gaze and tried to read his partner’s mind. He knew — had known — but hadn’t dared to ask. However, Angemon’s compassionate expression told him that the angel Digimon guessed his train of thought and wouldn’t mind.

“What do they talk about?”

Angemon moved his right arm on the bed and began toying with the sheet. “This,” Angemon replied with a slight tone of distance in his upfront words, “Being unable to help you. You getting tortured by the darkness. Things like that.”

Takeru could only watch Angemon with his chest tight. He knew his eyes had to be going back and forth between Angemon’s eyes with how hard he was trying to read the angel Digimon’s expression despite the helmet. In the end, Angemon tilted his head slightly to the side to let him know that the Digimon would listen if he wanted to tell. The words left his mouth in an ashamed confession, “That my legs are still tied.”

Angemon took a purposefully good look at Takeru’s legs before assuring softly, “They aren’t.”

“But if I can’t shake off the feeling?”

Angemon frowned slightly and chose his next question carefully, “If the darkness now controls your every step?”

Takeru tensed at how fast Angemon guessed his fear. Did it mean that his fears were right, and the outcome was inevitable?

Angemon moved to start the sentence a few times. When the angel Digimon finally spoke, the words were gentle, “And if that would be so? — You still have to go to the bathroom. The distance to there remains the same. Your legs are the same. You might be more conscious about your steps but I’d guess that the longer we talk about this the less likely you are to think about them in favor of your bladder,” Angemon presumed with a ghost of a smile. “— The darkness is there whether we think about it or not. You’re not a victim. It’s not a pre-determined fate. That’s all you can do.”

Takeru could feel the small warmth pool in his chest, however, it irritated his battered lungs and made him cough.

The coughing only proved that Angemon was right: his bladder was beginning to override superfluous things.

However, he still hadn’t made an effort to get on his feet.

“And the other stuff?” Takeru asked quietly while squeezing the side of the mattress with both hands.

“To see the world burn and enjoy it?”

Takeru nodded ever so slightly at Angemon’s matter of fact but almost inaudible words.

“Those are just visions. Whispers and shadows. Just that.”

Takeru and Angemon looked at each other’s eyes. The things in there, the things that fought to get out. They both knew that no-one else here would understand. No-else would need to hear about those things.

Angemon stood up, “Ready to go now?”

This time, Takeru nodded.

It was still difficult — and painful — but, in the end, it was just one step after another.


	8. Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short drabble that I had waiting. Seemed to fit for today.

8\. **Thanksgiving.** (Kids returned to Earth after DoneDevimon.)

* * *

“Takeru, where on earth have you been?!”

Takeru was silent as his mother crouched down to hug him.

He was back at home. Koushirou had managed to build him, Yamato and Taichi a gateway to return to this world.

Natsuko took him to arm’s length, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where did you go?”

“I’m sorry, mom.”

He had missed his mom. More than that, he had almost been killed during his absence — quite many times. But what could he say about that?

However, as his mom was posing questions at him and praising all the deities in the world, Takeru could feel Patamon itching his mind. His partner was just around the doorway, out of sight, but the answer came soundlessly into his mind.

_‘Truth is never a bad answer.’_

As the big boy he was now, Takeru took a determined step back to be able to look at his mother in the eye and told that other kids had been called into this Digital World to fight, that he had been whisked there from the living room during the blackout. He mentioned that Yamato had returned home too, and that he, himself, hadn’t come alone.

Natsuko watched open-mouthed as Takeru opened the front door more to let Patamon waddle inside.

The small Digimon took a floor-deep bow and apologized that Takeru had been needed in his world.

Natsuko hadn’t been convinced and had eyed both of them under stern silence, hoping that Takeru would admit that this was some sort of practical joke.

Takeru hadn’t known what to say and resolved to stand behind his words that Patamon was his friend, on the good side. However, he left open what exactly had proven this.

Maybe it had been for their benefit that Hiroaki had grabbed the phone the second Yamato had reached his home. Amidst the loaded telephone call, Takeru had taken his shoes off and indicated Patamon a way to his room.

* * *

It took over thirty minutes for Takeru to escape — well, be told to go to — his room. He and Yamato were both banned from leaving their homes for an unknown time until their parents had solved this out.

Takeru felt bad.

However, not in the sense of shame.

Of course, he felt bad for worrying their parents but he stood behind his decision — even if it hadn’t really been his decision to begin with. However, it had been his decision to save Patamon and fight.

And he didn’t regret that.

No, he felt bad because he was being punished for something that had been the right thing to do.

And now, his mother was exasperated at him, because he hadn’t given up an inch, hadn't admitted that he’d done something wrong like he always had before.

Takeru’s thoughts vanished at the sight of Patamon sitting on his bed and looking at him.

Takeru closed the door but stayed near it. Maybe it felt sacrilegious. Maybe he felt, he would need to do a proper greeting. After all, this was the first time his partner was inside his room.

“I’m sorry for mom’s words, Patamon,” Takeru started.

Patamon just shook his head amiably at him and Takeru fell silent, his intuition telling him that Patamon would continue.

“Your mother cares about you a lot. It’s nice that she’s worried about you.”

It seemed a nice perspective on things, Takeru guessed. In the end, he opted to stay silent and follow his partner’s gaze to look at the posters on the walls.

“What are those?”

Takeru took a few steps closer, “Astronauts.” And at the inquire on Patamon’s face, “Humans who go to space.”

“Oh. You like those?”

Takeru swiped his nose with his arm; physical things felt different in this world, “They’re cool. Actually, onii-san always watched space-programs on TV when we were little, so, I like them.”

Patamon turned his head to look at him and saved the new piece of information into his heart.

Takeru walked a few steps closer again and slumped on his stomach on the edge of the bed. He had to slide back a little to keep his toes touching the floor. He had heard older people refer to the elephant in the room as something wrong and hush-hush-ish. Now, he had a being from another world in his room and he didn’t find it odd at all.

Maybe he had misunderstood?

It was fascinating, that’s what it was. Patamon felt close and familiar; still, there was something that could have kept his eyes on the orange Digimon for weeks. The feeling seemed to go two ways based on how Patamon was still eyeing his room and all the telltale signs of him — probably had spent the whole thirty minutes looking for all the openly visible cues about his life.

“Do you eat?” Takeru wondered as the question popped into his head.

“Of course, I eat, Takeru,” Patamon answered him with humor in his voice.

“Food?”

The Digimon lowered himself to his stomach as well, and the two of them were almost face to face. “What do you think I eat?” Patamon asked in a conspiracy whisper.

Takeru shrugged his shoulders. However, the action didn’t result in anything else than producing an uncomfortable feeling on his shoulders thanks to his position.

Patamon’s smile widened. “What do you like to eat?”

“I?”  
  
Patamon nodded at him and encouraged him to continue.

“My grandma makes the best rice balls. … Ice-cream … chips. Crepes with red bean paste but those are only available near grandma and grandpa,” Takeru listed his eyes becoming distant. After finishing his list, he was slightly embarrassed for rambling on. However, when he turned to look at Patamon, the small Digimon watched him keenly.

He had seen that smile before. He had often seen in on the faces of his grandparents when they gave him sweets. His mom and dad had it on their faces from time to time. He didn’t know how to put the feeling into words but opted to mirror Patamon’s expression as he felt it too.

Something flashed in Patamon’s eyes at his response making Takeru quizzical. Patamon shook his head gently. “I’m grateful,” Patamon said lowering himself deeper onto the soft bedspread before whispering sincerely, “Really grateful for meeting you, Takeru.”


	9. 9. Of First Meetings

9\. **Of First Meetings**. (After ch 8, 'Thanksgiving'. In other words, kids are back at the Human World after DoneDevimon.)

* * *

It was an afternoon of ice-creams, a cacophony of opinions with a soundtrack of Koushirou’s typing.

This time, they were all back in their own world after defeating DoneDevimon. The Digimons had now come back with them. Everyone had been very curious to see the Human World.

Right now, the kids were trying to decide on their next course of action in the same roof-top café. Koushirou had updated all the Digivices with the new features.

Their meeting was going seriously over time because they tried to come up with a way to disappear again for many days straight. The strict rules, they had gotten from their parents, were also the reason why they had such an early curfew to begin with.

As of which….

“Onii-chan! We’re going to be late.”

They all turned to look at Hikari who found them — well, found Taichi.

“Hikari!”

Taichi’s words were shocked but Sora, Mimi, Joe, and Koushirou greeted Hikari more openly.

Hikari greeted them in kind before returning her attention to Taichi, “Mom said we’d have to be at home by three a ‘clock.”

“Look, we aren’t finished yet. Can’t you stay a little bit longer at the pet store?”

“She won’t let you wander off again if you don’t follow even the basic rules.”

“Hikari has a point, Taichi,” Mimi commented from the side making Hikari smile enigmatically.

Taichi looked at Mimi as trying to see why everyone was selling him to the wolves. He had already heard that the others had run into Hikari while he had been fighting in the Digital World with Yamato.

“We can talk about this more tomorrow, if you want,” Koushirou offered from behind his laptop.

Hikari balanced back and forth on her heels, waiting for Taichi to relent to the facts.

“Fine, I’ll take my tray.”

“Wait up, Taichi, we’ll come the same way,” Yamato issued while following the boy with Takeru. Their partners stayed with the rest of the kids.

“Are you a Digimon too?” Hikari asked after spotting Patamon on top of Agumon’s head.

Patamon promptly flew up to the girl, “Nice to meet you Taichi’s sister, I’m Patamon.”

Hikari walked closer to shake Patamon’s other wing, “Nice to meet you Patamon, I’m Hikari.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Taichi sighed after returning with Yamato and Takeru. His eyebrows rose for a second after seeing how attentively Hikari and Patamon were looking at each other.

* * *

“— But if the Virus Digimons are still growing in number on the Internet —”

Taichi and Yamato were unable to let go of the discussion and trying to make everything out of their time away from the watchful eyes of their parents.

Hikari had skipped to the next pedestrian crossing while Takeru tagged behind their brothers.

“Takeru, I want to digivolve.”

Takeru turned to look upwards but remembered at the last minute that he could only turn his gaze and not his head, otherwise Patamon would fall over.

“Now?” The small Digimon’s contemplative request made him perplexed.

“Yeah.”

Takeru simply answered okay and called out Yamato to transmit the message.

“Digivolve?” both of the brothers asked. But Patamon managed to carry enough of his Holy Digimon -aura that they didn’t question his will and took an extra turn on their way to find a peaceful corner.

Hikari had turned to look at them, blinked in surprise but followed them anyway; she had gotten used to her brother’s mercury-like nature years ago.

Soon, they had retreated to a darker corner under a bridge. Patamon digivolved into Angemon promising to be fast before anyone would spot them.

It was weirder to see a full-sized adult Digimon in Tokyo than in the Digital World: both Yamato and Taichi took a well-thought-out step back. However, Takeru didn’t — and neither did Hikari.

Angemon glanced around to see if anyone was coming, and as the coast was clear, he lowered himself on one knee to look at Hikari.

“Ehm. What is it?”

Angemon didn’t reply to Taichi’s confused inquiry, instead, he continued to observe Hikari. After a small moment, his gaze stopped at the pocket in Hikari’s jumpsuit.

“Hikari, could you please show, what you have in your pocket?”

“Me?” Hikari asked surprised and roamed through the pocket. She didn’t remember putting anything in there. But it didn’t take long for her fingers to find the white feather she had caught during the blackout. She held it out for all to see, “Oh, this! Onii-chan, I forgot to tell you about this,” Hikari said enthusiastically as the feather shone in her hand even though the sun didn’t find them in the shadows.

“Hikari… Where… Where did you get that?” 

“It flew to me from the sky during the blackout when every display was beeping red. Thanks to it, I knew you were alright.”

“Knew…?”

While Taichi stared at Hikari to somehow miraculously find the answers to the trillion questions inside his head, Takeru and Yamato stared at the feather. And so did Angemon, albeit with much more solemn eyes.

“May I?”

“Sure.”

Hikari gave the feather to Angemon who rotated it in his hand while Takeru used his thigh as leverage to get a better look. After a long pause, Angemon remarked somberly, “So, I’m not all that remains.”

“Angemon?”

This broke Angemon from his reverie and the Holy Digimon glanced at the older boys before turning to look at Takeru and smiled to ease the mood. “That is an angel Digimon’s feather,” he explained.

“I know,” Hikari agreed simply.

“You know?” Taichi asked.

“Yeah. I just know,” Hikari answered while her eyes fixated on the feather in Angemon’s hand. “I can hear it.”

Takeru joined Angemon and Hikari’s smile; he was happy to find a new friend and this had to be good news for Angemon, too. Yamato, on the other hand, turned to look at Taichi who was going through the same ‘No, no, not my younger sibling’ -phase he had been thrown into after seeing Takeru in the tank.

“What? What? What does this mean?”

Angemon glanced at Taichi before turning his attention back to Hikari and smiling warmly, “Light.”

“Light?” Taichi repeated not understanding but he didn’t receive a further explanation.

“Do you know who it is?” Yamato asked trying to take charge when Taichi clearly wouldn’t be able to.

Angemon shook his head gently, "Sadly, no.”

“It doesn’t speak to you?” Yamato confirmed.

Angemon smiled and extended the feather back to Hikari, "It's not meant for me."


End file.
